


What If (Whiskey Kisses)

by PrincessMisery86



Series: Truth & Consequences. [7]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Broken Promises, Cheating, F/M, Fluff, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 13:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20949443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMisery86/pseuds/PrincessMisery86
Summary: Summary: Conclusion to Dean & Quinn saga. I’ve milked it as much as I can!Warnings: angst, language, fluff, mentions of cheating.Song & Artist: What If - Rhys Lewis / Whiskey Kisses - MiC LOWRY. -Word Count: 3.8k (inc. lyrics)Notes: Conclusion - I hope - to Dean & Quinn saga. Six months after “Can’t Lie” - Four Months after “Empty Space”. Catch up here.Characters: Dean, OFC (Quinn), Jody (like 1 line). Mentioned: Sam.Pairing: Dean x OFC (Quinn) - (fingers crossed!)





	What If (Whiskey Kisses)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey and welcome! So to make long story short, I have progressive hearing loss in my left ear (I have lost 80% of my hearing so far.) Docs say my right ear will also start to deteriorate, there’s no explanation for it and it’s irreversible. I’m not looking for sympathy, it is what it is. But it does mean I have been listening to a shit ton of music lately, every chance I get, which is sparking inspiration for fics. So I’ve set myself a challenge (thanks for the idea @negans-lucille-tblr and @firefly-in-darkness) to write a fic based on a song for every letter of the alphabet.   
Notes:  
I have a few ideas already but don’t have any set completion date, I will write and post as they come to me.   
Fics will more than likely be for Supernatural or Jensen/Jared but will make sure to label accordingly.   
There’s no specific music genre - I listen to everything, rock, pop, hip hop, r’n’b, rap, dance, metal, house, garage, I will listen to anything if I like it.   
Welcome to send me some ideas.   
It may be a whole song that I take inspiration from or just a certain line or lines. Lyrics will be in each post.   
Posting to Tumblr too - @PrincessMisery666

**Six months after “Can’t Lie” - Four Months after “Empty Space”. **

##  **What If (Whiskey Kisses).**

It was a sticky, hot Summer’s night, the kind that makes sleep difficult because the sheets relentlessly stick to the skin. Yet Quinn was frozen, her body rigid in her seat at the table as the sound of the Impala filtered into the house.

Jody was quick to defend herself from blame. “They’re early,” she told Quinn taking a quick sip of red wine.

The Winchesters weren’t expected until tomorrow; however they were always welcome at the place Quinn had called home for the last six months. Sam had taken to calling ahead, giving Quinn time to leave if she wanted to, and she always did.

The scar on her hand seemed to throb in recognition upon hearing the creak of the car doors being shut in sync, the way the Winchesters always seemed to do. She wanted to run, to go out the back door, jump the fence, and flee the scene of a crime so she wouldn’t have to face the consequences. Her brain told her feet to move, but the signal didn’t arrive at its intended destination.

Jody reached the door as the knock came, and then the brothers were taking up the small space in the doorway as they embraced Jody in tight hugs.

Dean sensed Quinn’s presence; his eyes found her instantly, time freezing along with his breath. She was there. She didn’t run. He was as unprepared to see her as she was him. Quinn’s chiming phone pulled her eyes from his, allowing him to expel air again. “Shit, um-” he cleared his throat, panic dropping his gaze to the floor. “I’m gonna go.”

“It’s fine,” Quinn called out as the tip of Dean’s boot breached the doorway. She didn’t recognise her own voice. She sounded certain that him being there was, in fact, fine, when in reality her chest was tight. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled long, deep breaths to keep the tears from collecting in her eyes. She had shed enough tears mourning the loss of their relationship; now they were a sledgehammer of despair for the realisation of how much she truly missed him.

“You sure?” Dean asked softly, a shred of hope gleaming behind his panic-filled eyes. He could practically see her internal debate. She held his eyes, but her nostrils flared in that adorable way he use to love when she was trying to stay mad at him. Who was he trying to kid? There was no used to about it; he still loved it. It wasn’t any less adorable now. But was it really okay if he stayed? “I can go, I don’t want to-”

“Stay, go” she shrugged feigning indifference, “makes no difference to me.” Maybe that was the trick to getting over him, pretending would convince her brain to believe it. ‘Fake it until you make it’, as they say. Whoever they were had clearly never dated a Winchester.

Dean wanted to stay. He didn’t need her permission, but he sought her blessing. Though her words and unfazed tone tugged at his heart. If she was willing to be in the same room as him after six months of avoiding him could it mean she was over him? He cocked a brow, unable to stop himself from making a joke. “Is it safe for Baby to be here?”

Quinn’s lips twitched as she suppressed a smirk. Jerk. He had forgiven her for the damage, otherwise he wouldn’t have joked about it. Not that she felt she needed forgiveness. “Yeah, she’s good, unless you plan on doing something to piss me off?”

He shook his head slowly; he’d learned that lesson the hard way. “Not planning on it.”

She shrugged again standing up, collecting the dirty dishes from the table. She wouldn’t let him get off that easy. “Guess there’s always tomorrow,” she quipped gliding past him into the kitchen.

Dean’s eyes followed her out of the room, a boyish grin pulling his lips back over his teeth. Quinn had spoken to him for the first time in months. Sam had stopped him from tracking her down or ambushing her at Jody’s more than once. But now she had spoken to him, joked with him even. Jody and Sam hold the same enthused smiles when he turns to them, having forgotten they were there. “Shut up,” Dean grunted walking into the living room. 

[Originally posted by deanjackles](https://tmblr.co/ZZEy9k2OUZe2S)

* * *

Sat at her kitchen table, Dean nursed a glass of Jody’s finest whiskey, he’d been swirling the liquid around the glass more times than he had taken a sip from it. He wanted to be sober, but also needed the burning nectar to give him the courage to remain seated.

Quinn ran her fingertips the length of Baby as she walked up the driveway, unable to stop the fond smile from breaking out on her face. The sleek black car had no evidence of her assault; Dean had done a fine job fixing her up as always. She slowed her pace to admire the Impala. She’d missed her. She’d missed all three of them.

Dean had heard Quinn’s car pull on to the drive and he waited with bated breath until the jingle of her keys in the lock sounded. He shot back the amber liquid, doubt about waiting up to talk to her settling in.

Her step faltered upon seeing him sat at the table refilling his glass. She had hoped he would be sleeping. Shortly after the boys arrived, she left for her shift at the bar that one of Jody’s friends had been kind enough to give her a job at. She’d stayed an hour and a half after her shift ended, helping to clean up as a way to avoid the eldest Winchester.

He didn’t miss her faltering step. She didn’t pause long before continuing to take a glass from the cupboard, but he caught it. He was ambushing her. He knew it was wrong of him, but he had to take advantage of the fact she had spoken to him. “How was work?” he asked, the words leaving behind a strange feeling in his mouth. She’d never had a job in the time he had known her. She had always been a hunter. But living with Jody, she had to pay her way somehow.

Quinn ran the tap for a few seconds, waiting for the water temperature to drop a few degrees. Casual conversation, she could manage one civil conversation with him, right? “I didn’t get puked on, so I’m taking that as a win.” She brought the glass to her lips watching him chuckle, and she hated the giddy flip her stomach did at the sight of his laughter crinkled eyes.

“Want a drink?” he offered, shaking the bottle, hope evident in his tone. She had answered his question and not run at the first sight of him, that had to be a good sign.

It was a bad idea, drinking with him, conversing with him. It would only lead to a fight or an awkward conversation she didn’t want to have. However, a small drink before bed always had helped her sleep, even more so now she wasn’t sleeping beside him. “Let’s go out on the porch,” she agreed, sounding a tad more eager than she intended. “It’s too warm in here.”

_Shit, did she just say yes? _A smile flickered on Dean’s lips as he collected the bottle and a fresh glass before following her out to the back porch.

* * *

Dean supported himself on one leg, the other stretched out in front of him on the porch railing, his back resting on the pillar. He tried not to stare at Quinn, but he watched from the corner of his eye as she settled into the chair under the window, legs tucked under herself, glass resting on her knee looking out to the darkened yard. She looked comfortable, at home. The thought constricted his throat, and he had to cough to work some saliva back in. She shouldn’t look comfortable, not in a home where they weren’t together.

A welcomed breeze swirled around them, taking their scent to the nocturnal creatures on the wind, making them fall silent until they could ascertain the newcomers weren’t a threat. Though it seemed they had fallen silent for the ex-lovers to talk.

“Cas told us you called him,” Dean told the wind. Of all the thoughts, questions, and things he wanted to say to her, that had been the one that stuck in his mind — played over and over again. He had to ask, couldn’t spend another six months wondering. “You asked him to wipe your memory. Forget me?”

Quinn shook her head softly, “guess confessional rules don’t apply to angels.” She saw no point in denying it. She had known Cas would tell Dean about her request and subsequent withdrawal.

That had been her lowest point. The unimaginable physical, yet not fixable, pain she felt in her heart had become too much to bear. She drunkenly prayed to Cas in the exact same spot she was now - _“Castiel, if you can hear me,” _\- the angel had appeared before she had finished uttering his name - _“make me forget, please. Please, Cas I **need **to forget. Make me forget him.”_ She despised how weak she had become, how utterly defeated she felt because of a man.

Dean understood her desire to forget him; it was easier that way, to pretend. He’d have been lying if he claimed the thought had never crossed his mind, if only fleetingly. Then he thought about asking Cas to make Quinn forget he had been unfaithful. He considered that option more times than he was proud to admit. “Why didn’t you go through with it?”

She had many answers for that question, none of which seemed correct. So where did she even begin? Because she was a glutton for punishment? She somehow felt like she deserved what he did, that she wasn’t enough for him? That she didn’t give him what he needed. Was it because she built up an image of him in her head and that she wasn’t sure if she loved him or the picture of him she had painted? Bottom line, she didn’t want to forget him. He was so much a part of her life, not remembering the years they spent together would be losing a part of herself.

They had been something wonderful, and scary, tough at times, devastating at other moments but it had been theirs, together. Quinn saw their relationship as something colourful; she didn’t want to forget just because he made it gray.

All his other apologises had fallen on deaf ears. She’d never responded to them, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. He was sorry he had ruined them, so sorry that state of mind seemed to be an integral part of his DNA. “Q, I’m sor-”

“Please don’t…” sighed Quinn tiredly, his empty words not changing anything. “I don’t need apologies, Dean.”

“Then what do you need?” he persisted, rushing to sit in the seat beside her. He was overwhelmed with finally being able to talk, to get everything out in the open. He didn’t want her to be a memory, a name on that list he thought he was done adding too. “Please, Quinn, tell me there’s a way back from this.”

His proximity made her nervous, and she knew if she felt his touch her facade would fail and she wouldn’t be able to resist him. She untucked her legs, setting her feet flat on the wooden deck so she would be able to move should he reach out to her. “I don’t know that there is a way back. The trust is gone.”

He needed to know how to make it right, and he knew he’d have to earn her trust, that it would take time to rebuild what they had lost. But he felt that there was a way back for them. That somehow, breaking had made them stronger. Like all the other times they had been broken, for completely different reasons, although admittedly the majority of those times were because of him too, she always came back to him. Loved him a little deeper, tried that much harder to make him see the man she saw in him, no matter how much he had fucked up. Why should this time be any different? He just needed a chance to be better, to be the man she saw in him, to love her the way he was supposed to, the way he should have before.

He was Dean Winchester. He had killed Hitler, cheated and killed Death, escaped Hell, survived Purgatory. He could fix this too, right? Though come to think of it, he had done all those things with her by his side. What if that was the key? What if he was only _that_ Dean Winchester when she was fighting alongside him, when his shadow was her?

“Tell me you don’t love me,” his tone begged her not to answer.

Her moonlit eyes didn’t flinch or turn away from staring out into the yard. “I don’t love you.” It wasn’t a lie, she didn’t love him.

Dean reached out cautiously, two fingers under her chin gently guiding her head to look at him. “Tell me again.”

She inhaled deeply, and her nostrils flared as she exhaled jerking her face from his grasp. She shot to her feet spinning to face him when she reached the railing, a safe distance from his wandering hand. Her words flooded out thick and fast. “I don’t love you. I love Jody. I love Sam. I never loved you, Dean. I’m _in love_ with you, or at least I thought we were in it together.” She shook her head, turning her back on him to take a minute to compose herself.

Dean felt the grin creep on to his lips as he watched her shoulders rise and fall in an effort to control her heightened breathing. She had said ‘in love with’ - present tense. That meant he could convince her to give him a second chance. He stood beside her, “we were in it together, and I still want to be in it. The last time we spoke you said I made a decision to betray you, and you were right, I did. But I’ve also made the decision that I’m not giving up on us.” He took a tentative step closer to her. She didn’t retreat, and a surge of hope swelled in his chest so he continued, “I’m going to love you better, every single day, I’m going to love you the way I should have, give you everything I didn’t before.” He took her hand turning it palm up to run a finger down her scar, “so you never have to get another one of these because of me.”

The simplest of touch, a feather-light caress of her palm, caused her to shiver. She knew Dean saw it, watched his mouth curve into a smug grin. He’d always provided her body with a pleasure unparalleled, but then her heart had never known such pain either. “And if I don’t want you to love me?” she asked, focusing on their hands as Dean intertwined their fingers.

“I’mma do it anyway,” he shrugged, drawing himself into her, one arm sliding around her waist to rest on the small of her back. He kept his eyes focused on hers, searching for any sign of resistance. His nose brushed hers as he felt her breath against his mouth and realised he was holding his own. His lips ghosted over hers, and he saw the moment she closed her eyes and gave into him. He exhaled against her lips with a satisfied hum. Damn he’d missed her.

It was as if they hadn’t spent the last six months apart; they fit together just how they had before. But there was something deeper in Dean’s kiss; it felt different. All the promises he had broken were renewed whilst their tongues got reacquainted, his new promise to love her better now engraved.

Dean’s mind slipped into autopilot, distracted and all consumed by the feel of Quinn’s body against his. He became deaf to all the sounds of the night, for all he could hear was Quinn’s body calling out to him. No pill or potion could get him high the way her kiss did.

Quinn had been prepared for a fight when she had seen him waiting for her. But she had succumbed, his touch had gotten under her skin. One shot of his whiskey kiss and she was ready to let him back in. They pulled apart after becoming too breathless. Dean wasn’t ready to let her go. He kissed her cheek, jawline, and neck, over and over again. He wasn’t trying to turn her on, he just wanted to taste her, keep her pressed into him as long as he could.

“Fuck,” Dean exhaled breathlessly against her neck, “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too,” she admitted, “and I’m so tired of it. It’s exhausting to miss you.”

“You don’t have to anymore,” Dean began pulling back to look at her. She did look tired, drained of emotion. “You can come home.”

She shook her head. It was too soon for that. She couldn’t go back to how things had been before; things had changed too much to be normal. It would take time to find a new normal. “No, I can’t- I’m not saying never, just not right now or anytime soon.”

“Okay,” he smiled sadly. Dean understood her reluctance but it stung a little. “We can start at the beginning, take it slow, whatever you need.”

She kissed him again, hard, pent up frustration and anger getting the better of her. Dean walked her back, using her hips to steer her until she hit the wall of the house. He desperately wanted to let his hands roam, grip, caress and grind against all the parts of her he had missed. He was painfully hard against the constraints of his jeans, but he knew she wasn’t ready. He’d let her set the pace, give her the control. Air became an issue for both of them and they separated simultaneously.

“I still hate you,” gasped Quinn.

Dean grinned cockily, “no you don’t.” He assessed kissing the exposed skin of her collarbone. “You hate that you don’t hate me.”

“Asshole!” He laughed at her impeccable comeback; she knew he was right. But she wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. He traveled back toward her mouth, leaving imprints of his lips against her flesh. She pulled away before he could reach her lips, “it’s not going to be as easy as kissing me like that.”

Dean smirked proudly, elated that his kiss still had the same weak in the knees effect she had on him. “I don’t expect it to be easy and I’ll do whatever you want. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

Quinn exhaled softly, “okay, you can have your chance.” He leaned in, but she stopped his advance with a warning finger against his lips, “but you won’t get a third!”

“I won’t need a third,” he promised seriously. “I’m done letting you down, Q. I don’t ever want to be without you again. I know words mean nothing. I can tell you what you want to hear, but I’m going to spend all my time showing you how much I love you and making it up to you.”

She pecked his lips softly and ducked out of his arms as he moved in to deepen the kiss. “You have to earn another,” Quinn told him firmly.

Dean chuckled, she really wasn’t going to go easy on him, he expected nothing less. “And how can I earn more?”

“Honestly,” she sighed, sadly sitting in the chair, “I’m not sure. I just know I’m not ready to jump in feet first.” her hands in her lap became more interesting than looking at Dean. “I know it probably sounds crazy, but I feel like I don’t know you. The Dean I knew never would have-” she cut herself off, she didn’t want to keep bringing up his infidelity, but she didn’t know how else to say it. “- I don’t want to dwell on the past, so maybe we should start at the beginning, date each other for a while, get to know each other again.”

Dean smiled broadly sitting in the chair beside her, taking her hands in his, “how about we start with dinner tomorrow night?”

She grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek, “pick me up at seven.”

* * *

**Lyrics for Inspo (not all lyrics)**

**What If - Rhys Lewis**  
I know you tried  
To cut out the noise  
To get me to hear  
The love in your voice  
But I was so deaf  
To all but myself  
So you just went silent  
Still tryna’ help

It took a while to realize  
That things are clearer overtime  
And those mistakes we made were mine

But what if, what if we’d held on for longer  
And what if, what if breaking made us stronger  
Either way I’m contemplating  
If there’s a way to get you back  
Cause everyday I’m tired of thinking  
What if, what if, what if, what if

Well I know you tried  
To get me to see  
Myself in the mirror  
The way that you saw me

But I was so blind  
And all I could do  
Was think that my darkness  
Was the shadow of you

Everyday I learn to love you a little more  
Everyday I swear to give you what I never gave before  
Everyday I learn to love you a little more  
Everyday I swear to give you what I never gave before  
What I never gave before

**Whiskey Kisses - MiC LOWRY**

Came for a fight, I let you in  
Under my skin  
You changed my mind and I give in  
And it’s always the same  
You make me call your name  
Now I gotta have one more taste  
One shot of your whiskey kisses all on my lips  
I keep coming right back  
You make me call your name

Like I’m on pills and potions  
You took the moment  
But that doesn’t know you want it  
Got inside of my head, you stole it  
Riding on automatic  
And I get so distracted  
All I hear is your body talking  
Every sip that I take


End file.
